


Alone For Now

by BBirdy



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Altean Lance (Voltron), Confessions, Developing Relationship, Drunkenness, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Galra Keith (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Loneliness, Love Confessions, M/M, Miscommunication, Mpreg, Mutual Pining, Parenthood, Past Relationship(s), Post-Season/Series Finale, Protective Shiro (Voltron), Secrets, Supportive Lance (Voltron), birth scene, graphic birth, labor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:20:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22927081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BBirdy/pseuds/BBirdy
Summary: “Look. I need a… favor,” Keith spoke ever faster, phone pressed against his cheek. “I’d never ask if it weren't important and the hospital is hours away so- ow,” his words dissolved into a weak moan.“Keith?” Lance’s alarm was palpable. “Keith, you said something about a hospital. Are you hurt?”“No. No. I’m not hurt,” he whispered, insides twisting. “I’m in labor.”
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 102
Kudos: 520





	1. Chapter One

The house around him was too silent. It was the same little cabin he'd lived in before, the place he knew now was where he'd been born. Though he'd opted to take the spare bedroom rather than brave the stairs anymore. Seemed the only fitting place now. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” Keith panted, fingers white against the sheets below him. Panting for air, struggling through his panicked brain he waited for the white-hot pain to fade. Keith collapsed against his pillows, giving himself to the count of ten. 

“Okay,” he pushed himself slowly back to his elbows. “Keep your head on straight.” Blindly he reached out for his communicator. 

“Mom is on mission,” he swore. 

One more moment to take stock of himself. The winding cramp slowly released his lower body, shirt pushed up to his chest. Underneath his ribs, visible through the thin skin a small body wriggled, hating the contracting muscles as much as he did. With his feet planted atop the covers, he tugged the shirt back down, wiping sweat from his forehead. 

Swinging his legs off the bed Keith heaved himself to his feet. It was quite the feat, his belly swollen large enough to impede the view of his legs. Hand pressed firmly to his spine he waddled down to the fridge. 

Before he could round the last corner the newest cramp hit; too quick to prepare for. Unable to think his knees crumpled. Keith dropped like a stone, forehead pressed into the wall. 

“Ow, ow,” he hissed. “Ow, come on. Please,” he scrambled for his communicator, pressing it to his ear. 

“Pick up. Please.”

“Hello?”

“Shiro,” Keith crumpled further to the floor, held up by one elbow. 

“Keith.” the alarm was instant. “Keith, what’s wrong?”

He struggled to catch his breath. “I need help. I think I’m in labor.”

From the other end, Keith could hear cutlery clatter. “What? Are you sure? Could it be phantom contractions? Who else is with you? Where is Krolia?”

“In order,” Keith took a long deep breath, the cramp releasing. “No. I’m not sure. No one is here. My mom is on a mission.”   


“You’re alone?”   


Keith put down the communicator, grabbing the nearest door handle, slowly pulling himself to his feet. 

“Keith!” Shiro was calling.

“‘M here.”

“You have to be sure this is actually labor.”

Terror pumped his blood faster, sweat dripping down his forehead. “It has to be. I’ve been trying to time them the best I can. I’m eleven minutes apart. A few of them have been much closer and getting stronger.”

Keith took his trek to the kitchen, leaning against the counter. 

“And you’ve had water, been keeping your feet up?”

“Someone’s been reading up on those baby books,” Keith set the communicator on the counter, flipping it to the speaker. Keeping his gate steady he filled a glass of water. 

“I’m about to be an uncle. Of course I’ve been reading up.”

Laughing softly Keith sipped slowly. “I’ve been lying on my bed, with a bottle of water. But I finished it up pretty quick. And as for resting, I’ve been lying down for two hours. It hasn’t stopped. It hasn’t even slowed down.”

“Okay.” Shiro began to pace, the sound too familiar even over the phone. “That really sounds like labor. Water-”

“Hasn’t broken. Mucus plug was about a week ago.”

Shiro gagged. 

He had to set his cup down to keep from snorting his drink. “Big tough hero of the universe my ass.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to call an ambulance?”

“We’ve talked about this,” Keith dropped his forehead in his hand. “With everyone. One, I live four hours away from the nearest hospital. And two-”

“You don’t want the general public knowing about you’re being pregnant.”

“On another planet, it would be less of a big deal,” Keith interrupted, repeating what he’d been saying for months. “But with human and alien relations being so fragile we don’t want any humans thinking that aliens can change humanity.”

“I know, I know,” Shiro said with a soft sigh. “But this is in case of emergency.”

“If there’s an emergency I have a fully stocked, blade approved first aid kit,” Keith assured. 

“That you can’t use alone.”

“I’m not due for two more weeks,” Keith tried to comfort himself. “My mom is supposed to be back tomorrow night. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“Keith,” Shiro soothed. “Keith. How can you be sure?”

“Galra labors last longer than human,” Keith started to pace back and forth next to the countertop. “Sometimes days.”

“As terrifyingly unpleasant as that sounds you are half-human. And as you said yourself, those are quicker. And you don’t know what species the other parent was…” Shiro’s judgment was quelled by his worry. “One night stands at alien bars aren’t exactly easy to track. So I need you to be really sure before I-”

“Shiro.”

“-Hang up. Do you want me to get someone. I could have your mom get home sooner. I could even go get her-”

“Shiro.”

“I could even swing by. I could get there by morning.”

“Shiro!” Keith yelled, fingers white on the countertop. 

“What?”

“My water just broke.”

“What?!”

“My water just broke,” Keith repeated numbly. Stood frozen, knuckles white against the granite he could feel the liquid soaking his thighs, dripping down to his bare feet. 

“What? Are you sure?”

“Well, I didn’t piss myself,” Keith couldn’t summon the anger to drive the words. 

Shiro’s pacing increased. “This is not good, this is not good. I’m too far away, everyone is.”

“Motel in space does generally take too long to get out of, if only to get through customs,” Keith’s attempt to joke fell flat, turning off speaker, pressing the communicator back to his ear.

“Keith,” Shiro walked faster, pacing all too loud through the fuzzy line. “Stop. I’m too far. Your mom is too far. Even the ambulance would be too far, an eight-hour drive at least to get you to a hospital.”

“I’m not going to a hospital!” Keith repeated. 

“I know, I’m just trying to think through your options. I’m trying to be helpful,” Shiro kept his voice level. “Who’s nearby?”

Keith leaned onto the counter, elbows pressed. “Not Pidge or Matt. They’re both in their lab, with their parents, all halfway across the country.”

“Hunk?”

“Other side of the galaxy, along with every other alien I know.”

“Who says it has to be an alien?” 

“Because I don’t know any humans besides the team and the woman who runs the gas station down the road. And even if I did, I wouldn’t know how to explain any of this!” Keith ran both hands through his hair. 

“Who else… what about Lance?” Shiro paused. 

Keith felt his heart clench, firmly rooted to the spot. “His farm is at least twelve hours away.” 

“Actually-”

Pain erupted like lightning. Pressing a hand into his mouth Keith tried his utmost to keep from screaming. Other hand shaking he dropped his communicator. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” Keith panted the words like a mantra. He pushed himself to the sink, his insides swirling. 

“Keith? Keith! What’s going on? Are you okay?” Shiro’s voice was miles away. 

With the pain wavering Keith reaching a shaking hand to the comm line. 

“Keith!”

“I-I’m here,” Keith breathed.

“What happened?”

“Contraction,” he pressed his free hand into his eyes, stars dancing across blurred vision. “They’re supposed to get worse after the water breaks. That  _ sucked _ .”

“Lance is only a couple hours away.”

“What?”

Shiro’s voice was firm. “He’s close by picking up supplies or something. He is the  _ only _ one nearby. I am going to call him. Now.”

“No!” Keith stood stalked straight, blood rushing ever faster through his veins. 

Anger broke through the calm veneer Shiro had been holding, powered by the terror in both of them. “Keith. You need help.”

“I,” Keith could feel his voice catching. “I can call him myself.”

“And you’ll actually call him?”

“Shiro,” he brushed an arm over his swollen middle, everything inside screaming, arguing. “I know Lance and I haven’t been exactly close lately. I know I can’t do this alone. I can handle a phone call.”

“Fine,” Shiro relented. “I’m still going to get a word through to your mother. Once I do that I’ll be on my way. We should both be there by morning.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I will be there by morning,” he pressed.

Keith sighed. “Thank you Shiro.”

“Don’t you dare have that baby without me,” Shiro’s smile was audible. 

“No promises.”

“Call. Lance.” Shiro spoke firmly before hanging up. 

“Right.” Keith set the communicator down. Shoving it into his pocket Keith’s fingers brushed a damp patch of his loose sweat pants. 

“Shiro’s right,” he mumbled. “Gross.”

Carefully he inspected the damage. The spread of amniotic fluid wasn’t as big as he thought it would be, not as enormous as the movies lead him to believe. They were at least in extreme need of a scrub down. 

An indignant limb pushed at the band of the damp pants. 

"Nice to see you agree," Keith snorted, brushing across the point of impact. 

He stayed quiet a long moment, waiting for his child to calm down. 

“All right,” he sighed, glaring at the small communicator. Heading down the hall, peeling off the wet clothes and tossing them into the tub. Something to deal with later. 

Keith picked through his clean clothes, his shirt tighter than he wanted, finding only a pair of shorts in his limited amount of clean laundry. Though it was far simpler to see the still wriggling alien below.

With a grunt he dropped to sit on the end of his bed. His hands slowly moved in circles over the swollen skin. 

“You’re going to be okay,” he promised. “We, we’re going to figure it out. Okay?” 

The corresponding kick left him with a weak smile. 

Cheek on his shoulder he squinted at the communicator lying atop the covers. 

Seven months since Keith had seen him. Nine months since they’d actually spoken. And now, now he was going to call him out of the blue and beg him to drive hours for a kid that wasn’t even his. 

“Well,” Keith scooped up the phone, free hand still rubbing slow circles. “That one’s not exactly true is it?”


	2. Chapter Two

His thumb hovered over the call button for a long moment. Still speed dial number one. 

“Just press the damn button,” Keith squeezed his eyes shut, slamming down the button and pressing it to his ear before his mind could properly catch up. 

One long ring. 

Then two. 

Heart thudding in his ears Keith hoped for one wild moment he wouldn’t answer. But then…   
“Hello?” Lance’s sleepy voice asked. 

“H-Hey.” Why was his voice shaking? “Hey, Lance. It’s me.”

“Keith?” all traces of exhaustion vanished. “What’s up?”

“I heard you were in town,” Keith picked at the hem of his shirt. 

Lance relaxed back into a steady smile, audible already. “Yeah. I’m in town for some business. A few seeds and bulbs I can only get down here. And it’s nice to have some more sunlight.”

“Working outside all day, a lightless lifestyle indeed,” Keith said dryly. 

“Did you just make a joke?” Lance gaped. “What’s the call about anyway?”

Keith struggled to force air into his lungs. “Look. I need a… favor,” he picked faster, pulling at a thread. “I’d never ask if it weren't important, and I don’t have anyone else to turn to. Shiro and my mom are on the way, but they’re both in space. And the hospital is hours away so- ow,” his words dissolved into a weak groan. A new contraction came on with a vengeance. 

“Keith?” Lance’s alarm was palpable. 

Unable to speak Keith forced his breathing to stay even until he could find his words. “I, I’m okay,” he choked. 

“What’s going on?” 

Keith could hear movement on the other end of the line. 

“Keith, you said something about a hospital. Are you hurt?” 

Still struggling through the rolling cramp Keith shook his head. “No. No. I’m not hurt,” he moaned, insides twisting. “I’m in labor.”

“You’re what?” the squeak would have been comical had it not been for the circumstances. 

“I’m in labor.” Keith pressed at the knots in his spine, lowering himself back to the mattress. "It's been about five hours now."

“What do you want me to do?” Lance yelped. “It’s just me here. I don’t know anything about babies, let alone alien babies!” 

Keith’s wince had nothing to do with physical pain. “Lance. I don’t need someone with experience. I just need someone." He curled tighter, an arm over his middle. “I need you-er, your help,” he amended quickly. “I need help, just in case.” Fear stopped his voice dead. “Please, Lance. I’d never ask if this wasn’t an emergency.”

He waited through a long pause. 

“Lance?”

“I’m looking for the fastest way there,” there was a shuffling in the background of the phone, now shifted to speaker. “If I take the back roads, I think I can be there in an hour and forty minutes, less if I avoid cops.”

Keith melted into the mattress, biting his cheek to stop the relieved sob. "Thank you."

"What?" Lance asked, distracted. "Of course I'm coming. Did you think I'd say no?"

"You got quiet," Keith mumbled, flushing red. 

"I'm trying to get this crummy motel wifi to work. I'm downloading a map and a baby book."

Keith slowly pushed himself back to a sitting position. "A baby book? And how do you plan on reading that while driving?"

"I-" he paused. His blush could almost be heard over the line. "Maybe I'll skip the baby book."

"Maybe," Keith's grunt was audible as he heaved himself back to his feet. 

"Keith, do you want me to stay on the line until I get there?"

He froze. "I think we'd run out of things to talk about," Keith said lightly, insides churning. 

"I mean it."

"No," Keith held to his bedroom door frame, making up his mind. "No. It's fine. I'm waiting on a call from Shiro anyway. He's trying to track down my mom," he lied quickly. 

"Okay." 

Keith could hear a car door shut over the line.

"I'm on my way now. If anything happens  _ call _ . And for now, just, just try to get some rest?"

Forcing a short laugh Keith nodded. "Okay."

_ Click. _

"Shit," Keith muttered, staring at the blank screen in his palm. It slipped through his numb fingers, skittering down the hallway. "What did I just do?"

Insides swirling ever faster he hurried to the large radio, or as much as he was able to hurry. He needed something to drown out his wild thoughts. 

"It's fine," Keith fumbled with the dial, flipping through channels. "This is fine. It's just Lance, in my house, helping. That's what he does. He helps," his fingers slipped off the volume, sweat destroying his grip. "This is not fine," he dropped his face in his hands. 

Two slow deep breaths. Then flipping the radio to random chatter, not a talk show. He didn't pay attention to the word. 

Lips pressed he went to the kitchen, sound following. Filling the sink with soapy water he moped up the damp spot on the floor, eventually just wiping down the whole kitchen. 

Radio chatter drowned out frantic thoughts as he scrubbed at every bare surface. He'd never really been the kind to stress clean before.

"I would call it nesting," Krolia's voice came into clarity. It'd been something she'd chattered in passing, the first time she'd found his tidying onslaught. "But your father would wash the windows whenever he worried. He did more nesting than I did."

Keith summoned a smile, scraping harder at a stubborn stain. 

"He'd turn on the radio too, loud enough to hear from every corner of the house. I was sure you'd be born deaf."

Kieth's musings were interrupted by the worst pain yet. 

Bent over the counter once more he moaned wordlessly, lost behind the white-hot knives stabbing up his spine. 

"Lance," he mumbled into the countertop. "You better hurry."

Unable to sit, to find any semblance of calm he grabbed the damp cloth again, returning to the stains. At every contraction he stopped dead, supporting himself on whatever object was nearest him. 

"Might need to keep timing these," Keith mumbled to himself, clinging to the back of his decrepit couch. His words dissolved in a low moan. He couldn't keep his thoughts straight enough to follow through. 

With no clue how much time had past he let the lastest pain wash over him.

He pushed himself across the room clinging to the doorframe to the living room, numbly thinking about tracking down another glass of water. Absently he turned on a single floor lamp, the only other light in the house. 

"Shit," he dug his nails into the wood of the tiny coffee table. "Calm down, kid. I can't keep this up."

Across the room, headlights shone through threadbare curtains. 

"Finally."

Pushing through confused emotions Keith walked to the radio, flipping it off just as Lance came crashing into the house. 

"Keith?!"

"Living room," Keith called. His spine throbbed with the ever frantic beat of his heart. 

"Keith," Lance slid into the room, tripping over the corner of the rug. Sweat beaded his forehead, shaggy brown hair stuck to his cheeks. In one hand he clung to his jacket, still wearing pajamas and slippers. "Keith. Are you okay? I came as fast as I could and-" he stopped dead, gaze landing on Keith. 

He flushed beet red. Keeping his gaze firmly on the ground he crossed his arms. Never had Keith felt so entirely self-conscious. "Thanks, for coming I mean."

Recovering from what Keith could only assume was disgust Lance spoke. 

"You scared the quiznack out of me!" Lance slumped onto the couch. 

"What?" Keith lifted his head. 

Even in the pale lamplight he couldn't help being struck by the figure before him. Lanky and even more tan than when he'd last seen him, the glowing marks on his cheeks made Lance look ethereal. 

"I called you a dozen times," Lance cut into his thoughts. "I thought you'd fallen down the stairs or, or seriously hurt yourself. Why didn't you answer me?"

Removing his tongue from the roof of his mouth Keith stammered. "I didn't hear. I had the radio on."

"And you couldn't have kept the comms in your pocket?!"

"I dropped it in the hall," he gestured vaguely.

"So?"

Indignancy pushed aside Keith's nerves. "Does it look like I can reach the floor?" He gestured the good-sized swell that was the entirety of his midsection. 

"I," Lance paused. "I guess not." Flustered he tried to find a rebuttal. "Why is it in the hall anyway? You're supposed to be resting."

"Can't," Keith rounded the couch, dropping to the opposite end, a full cushion between them. 

Lance tried to stifle a snigger, not quite catching it fast enough. 

"Something to say?"

"Lacking some grace of late?"

"Again, very pregnant," Keith's blush slid away, a new cramp building. "If not for much longer."

"Keith?" Lance sat up quickly. 

Hissing through his teeth Keith gripped the arms of the couch. "I-I'm okay," he panted. 

Lance hovered next to him, pale as a ghost. "What should I do?"

Keith held up a finger, making him wait. Teeth grit he forced himself to stay quiet throughout. 

Pain finally breaking he sunk back into the chair, cheek on his shoulder. 

"That looked… bad."

"It wasn't great," Keith agreed, closing his eyes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. The reception for this story has blown me away. Thank you, everyone!!!


	3. Chapter Three

"What can I do?"

"There really isn't anything to  _ do _ yet," he rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry I had you hurry."

Lance patted his knee awkwardly. "Don't apologize. If you've been going through that alone all night I'm happy to be here; if only for moral support."

He shot him a small smile. "Thank you, Lance."

"No problem."

"Really," Keith pressed, an odd twisting beneath his ribcage. "You didn't have to come, especially after everything that happened." He stopped, tongue turning to lead. 

"Keith," Lance pushed past his cycling emotions far faster than Keith. "We had one date. It didn't work out. I don't blame you for that."

The twisting in Keith's ribs froze, replaced by a lead weight. "Yeah. Right. Just the one date. Then I went on mission."

"A three-month mission," Lance agreed. He still hadn't moved back, fingers still awkwardly perched on Keith's knee. "Not only that but a mission without communications."

"We don't have to talk about this," Keith shifted, pulling from his touch. 

"Don't you want to?"

"Not really." Keith dropped his chin in his hand, elbow on the arm of the couch. He couldn't look at him.

"Too bad," Lance moved, sitting on the coffee table. "I do."

"Why?" Keith forced himself to glare at him, emotions bubbling. "Why bother talking about one bad date?"

He was flushed red. "Because it wasn't," he mumbled. "Or I didn't think it was bad. I thought, well I thought it was nice."

"Then why didn't you call?" Keith shifted uncomfortably. "Sure we had the occasional radio silence but for the most part…"

"Why didn't I?" Lance sputtered, standing. "Why didn't you? I knew you were on mission but you must have had some free time!" He gestured emphatically to Keith's middle.

"What of it?" Keith struggled to his feet, following after him. "Why do you care what I do? How is it any of your bus-" his voice caught, hitching him forward, groaning. "Ow, ow, shit. Too fast. That was too fast." 

"Keith!" Lance caught his arm. "Keith, what's wrong?" He put one arm around his back, taking his free hand. 

Gasping for air Keith leaned against him, forehead on Lance's shoulder, his voice a million miles away. 

"Keith? Are you okay?"

"It's getting faster," Keith breathed, arm over his middle. "Closer together. Too fast."

"You should sit down again."

Lifting his head he watched Lance gnawing on his bottom lip. 

"No," Keith shook his head. "It's fine. I'm fine."

"Keith," Lance met his gaze and held fast. He was only just shorter than Keith, able to see him directly, even in the weak lamplight. "You're white as a sheet, you're sweating so hard it looks like you climbed out of a pool and I must've called your name half a dozen times."

"I couldn't hear."

"My point exactly," Lance's hand squeezed around Keith's. "So just, please try and rest. Sit down, lie down, I'm not picky. Just rest. Please," he begged. 

"Fine," Keith gave in. "There's an exercise ball thing my mom got me. She says it's supposed to help."

He nodded once. "Good. Where is that?"

"My closet," Keith pulled his arm from Lance's hand, trying to steady himself under his own power. Still, he nearly toppled over. It seemed his already precarious center of gravity had shifted ever further. 

Lance caught his arm once more. "Careful!"

"What was that you said about a lack of grace?" Keith blushed. 

Lance chuckled. 

Regaining his footing Keith pointed awkwardly down the hall, starting to walk, or more accurately waddle in the right direction. "Um, this way."

Lance left the lamp, searching blindly for the hall light. 

"Keith?" he began carefully.

"There's no hall light. You can usually see from the light in the kitchen."

"Not what I meant."

Keith tenses, preparing to resume their argument. 

"About what I said earlier," Lance moved back to his side, glaring firmly at his shoes. "Look, I'm sorry. You're right. It's not my business."

"No," Keith rubbed the back of his neck. "I deserved it. I should've called."

" _ I _ should've called," he winced. 

Keith bumped his shoulder with his own. "So we both had the best date ever. Then we didn't want to ruin it by calling. And ended up ruining by not calling," he summed up. 

Lance's laugh was real that time. "Looks like." He crouched down, scooping something up and straightening in one move. "Found your comms."

Keith groaned loudly. 

"What? Lance yelped. "Is it another one already?"

"No," Keith snatched the communicator away, shoving it in his pocket. "It's not that. I just miss being able to move like that!"

He slapped a hand over his chest. "Quiznack Keith. You almost stopped my heart."

Keith struggled to keep from laughing. "Sorry. Jealousy got the best of me."

Recovering himself, hand still pressed over his chest, Lance followed Keith to his room. "Keith?" he paused in the doorway. 

"Hmm?" Keith pulled open the closet door, rolling out a large rubber ball to the center of the room. He paused, no clue how to maneuver himself down.

"Did you really mean that?" Lance stepped forward, taking his arm. 

"About being jealous?" Keith asked, using Lance to carefully sit down. "Of course I am. I can hardly move anymore." 

Making sure Keith was steady Lance moved to sit on the end of his bed. "That's not what I meant. I mean, did you, was that really the best date you'd ever been on?"

"Oh," heat rose thick and fast in his cheeks. "To be fair I haven't been on many dates. I don't have much to compare it to."

"How many other dates have you been on?"

"None," Keith mumbled. 

Lance froze, jaw hanging open. 

"Shut up."

"I," Lance was choking on his words. "I, really? That was your first ever- but I- we were together. I got you in bed. Did I take your virginity?!"

"What are you twelve?" Keith groaned. "I swear if you do not shut up I will-" he pressed his lips together, struggling to keep his pain in check.

By the time Lance had recovered himself Keith had gotten to the last leg of the contraction. 

"Sorry," Lance mumbled, moving quickly to kneel next to Keith, holding onto his arm. "Got a little lost in thought."

Keith waved him off. "I noticed."

He was quiet a long moment before retaking his seat. "Keith?"

"What?" he snapped, fingers clenched on his knees. He did not have the energy for an interrogation. Everything hurt. The contraction, still hanging on by a thread was quickly draining his energy away. "What, exactly, do you want to know Lance? Yes, you were in fact, my first time. Happy? And look where that got me!" He gestured at his stomach. "So just drop it, okay?"

"That's not what I was going to ask at all," Lance held up his hands. "I was just going to… to…" his jaw hung open. 

They both realized what he'd said in the same moment. 

"Wait, what?"

"Nothing," he squeaked, refusing to look at him.

"Keith. I thought you… you said that it was a one night stand, just some alien."

"Yeah," Keith's throat was too tight, heart hammering in his ears. "Yeah, that's it. I mean I too drunk, so I don't remember if we actually  _ did  _ anything. But they can't be human, I can't with humans. So it can't be," Keith curled both arms over his stomach, whether to protect or to hide even he wasn't sure. 

"Well," Lance had a clammy hand on Keith's knee. "I mean, yes. If you can't with full-blooded humans that would make sense. But Keith. I'm not."

"Not what?"

"Human."

Keith couldn't hear anything but his heartbeat in his ears now. "What?"

"I'm part altean."

"Oh."

There was a strong ringing now. 

"Keith?"

"I'm going to pass out," he whispered. 

"Sit," Lance grabbed his arm, helping him to the floor, kneeling beside him. 

Cross-legged on the worn carpet Keith pressed his palms into his eyes until he could see a new galaxy of stars. The unsteady lightheadedness was not fading. 

"Keith?"

"I just assumed," he spoke automatically, not thinking about the words before they came. "I assumed that old galra general was just taking advantage of me, a stupid kid. I thought I was too drunk."

"Keith," Lance's alarm was palpable, hands brushing his arm, his leg. Too close. Too familiar. But he couldn't pull away. "Keith. Are you telling me you thought this kid was from… rape?"

Keith's nod was practically infinitesimal. "I mean, I thought there might be a possibility they might be yours. But I couldn't let myself hope on it."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Suddenly the soft hands on his arm weren't enough. Keith needed to be closer. He dropped his hands, blinking away the stars, wandering fingers brushing across Lance's work-roughened palms. "I didn't want to give you false hope," he whispered. "Or, or myself. Because what if they aren't yours? What then? Can I really love them if they belong to that-" he grit his teeth. He had to stop these words, the ones he hadn't dared to voice. 

"Then I'll be here to help," Lance's wandering fingers took hold of his hand, squeezing tight. "I wasn't there when you found out because of miscommunication. I wasn't here for you because I was scared. I am not letting that happen again."

Tears burned at the corners of Keith's eyes. He couldn't look at Lance, focusing on his hands, each and every little cut, each new sun made freckle. "Really?"

"Really," he said firmly. 

Keith dropped his forehead on Lance's shoulder. "Thank you."

They sat in silence for a short moment. 

Finally, Lance found his voice. "Keith?"

"Hmm?"

"How would you know for sure?"

Keith held very still, thinking. "Galra kids, they don't really take on attributes of those who carry them." He held tight to Lance's hand, terrified he'd let go. "So if the kid comes out purple. Then we'll know."

"Good to know." Lance squeezed tight, trying and failing for a smile. 

Keith's knuckles went white, voice fading. "You might find out sooner than we thought," he panted. 

"Keith?" Lance shifted, sitting in front of him. "What's wrong? What's going on?"

"I, I need to push," Keith struggled up, only managing to get to his knees. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... what am I more likely to do? Be nice to my boys and give them their happy family or... fluffy galra baby? What to do, what to do. ;) 
> 
> Thank you all so so much for all your lovely comments!


	4. Chapter Four

All the color drained from his face. Lance held onto his arms. "What do I do? How do I help?"

"Get me up," Keith wound his fingers into the covers. Repressing every urge to bear down he dropped his head on the mattress. His shoulders shook badly.

Lance put an arm around his waist, unable to get him to his feet. Strength wasn't a problem. It was all leverage. 

Even with both of their efforts Keith was exactly where he was even as the pain faded. 

"Just," Keith heaved, "just leave me where I am for now. This is fine."

"What should I do?"

"In the hall closet go and get the pile of towels, the first aid kit and the plastic tub on the floor."

"Anything else?" he clung to Keith's arm. 

Keith's smile was weak. “Not just yet.”

He nodded firmly. Lance pressed his lips to Keith's forehead before running out into the hall.

Keith smiled, dropping his head back to the mattress. He laid his arms on the foot of the bed, knees spread. Humming low in his chest, a tuneless attempt to keep himself from groaning. Swaying slowly back and forth he let his swirling thoughts settle. 

"He knows," Keith whispered, breathing into the blanket. "Lance knows. I, I lied but he didn't hate me. He's still here. He still wants to help me." 

_ Us _ , his mind corrected. 

"Us," he swallowed past the ever growing lump in his throat. "But how long will that last if… if it isn't…"

"Got it!" Lance hurtled back into the room. Setting the supplies down he scooped up the plastic bin. "Water in this?"

Keith nodded once, reaching out to grab him before Lance could run back out. "Help me back onto the bed before the next contraction starts," he shifted, face red. "My knees hurt."

Lance smiled, hooking an arm under his, and slowly prying Keith off the floor. 

Leaning against him Keith used him to waddle back onto the edge of the bed. Even that movement was too much for his aching body. 

"You okay?" Lance lifted Keith's legs onto his mattress. 

"I'm not built for this," he rubbed his spine with both hands. "I can't wait until I have my own body back."

"That does come at the price of a tiny helpless child that does nothing but poop and cry," Lance gently moved his hands, replacing them with his own. Slowly he rubbed circles into the built-up knots. 

Keith laughed, half lost in a relieved sigh. "Worth it. I'll be able to stand up and sit down all by myself."

"Suits you though," Lance softly. 

"What?" Keith turned, his little massage coming to an end. 

"You don't look bad." It was Lance's turn to struggle meeting his eyes. He began to rub the back of his neck. "I mean, all pregnant and stuff. You look good."

Flustered and hot around the collar Keith smirked. "Am I turning you on?"

"Shut up," he hopped up, grabbing the empty plastic bin. "I'm going to go get this filled."

"Get the curtain lining off the shower before you come back."

"What? Why?

"To put under me. Childbirth is messy.”

Lance’s blush faded to a slight green. “Right, got it.” He vanished into the hallway. 

Once out of sight Keith dropped onto his pillows, undoing the drawstring of his pants. The heat welling inside was quickly quelled by the newest mounting pain. Biting back a groan he pushed him onto his elbows, head back. Blowing out his mouth he found himself unable to stop his bone-deep need to push. 

“Calm down kiddo,” Keith panted. “Just hold on. Just a couple minutes. Please.” His voice broke, bearing down despite himself. “Stop, stop, stop,” his words dissolved. 

Sweating harder he dropped back, chest heaving. 

“Keith,” Lance hurried forward, taking his arm. “What’s going on? What happened?”

“Another contraction,” Keith didn’t open his eyes. “A really bad one.”

“What can I do?”

“You got the water?” he held very still, recovering his strength. 

“I got everything.”

Trying to think he struggled to sit up, hissing through his teeth.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Lance put a hand on his shoulder. “Lie back down. Save your strength. You look like you need it.”

“What were you saying not ten minutes ago?”

Lance blushed darker. “Not what I meant.” His hand shifted down his arm, taking his hand. “What else can I get you?”

“Nothing else to get. It’s just a waiting game now.”

“You’re sure?” Lance’s voice picked up speed. “You’re completely sure there isn’t anything else I can do? I can get you water, or, or a snack or something? Or I can-”

“Lance.” 

“Yes?”

Keith opened his eyes, pushing himself up on one elbow. “There is something you can do for me.”

Lance wound their hands together, earnest and worried. “What can I do?”

“Lie down with me, and try to relax,” Keith placed his free hand on Lance’s cheek. “I am the one giving birth in a cabin in the middle of the desert. You are not allowed to panic.”

Lance opened and shut his mouth several times before dropping onto the mattress, his free arm laying across Keith’s hips. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I think I might be panicking just a little.”

“You don’t have to be sorry.” Keith settled down next to him, enjoying the arm around him. “I get it. You’re freaking. You have good reason-” Keith paused with a grunt. 

“Another contractor?”

“One, it’s called a contraction,” Keith smiled weakly. “And, two, no. They’re just abusing my insides while they still can.”

Keith curled closer, if only on instinct, both hands brushing over the visible movements. 

“That’s… that is so weird.”

He snorted. 

“But it’s really cool too,” Lance amended, bright red. “I hardly got to see it with either my niece or nephew. My sister didn’t like people touching.”

“Do you want to feel?”

“Really?” Lance lit up, face only inches away. 

Taking his wrist Keith guided it from his hip down the swollen curve to the still wriggling baby. “It is your last chance. At least before we’ve got the real thing.”

Lifting his eyes off his middle he watched Lance’s face changed from apprehensive confusion to utter delight. 

“Hello there,” Lance brushed his thumb along the movement. “Nice to finally meet you,” he cooed. “Though I guess you’ll be meeting me pretty soon.”

A tiny limb made sharp contact with his palm. 

Keith winced. 

“Hey,” Lance admonished. “No kicking your daddy, either of them.”

“Lance,” Keith squared his jaw. “I told you. There’s no reason to raise false hopes.”

“It’s not false hopes. It is an extremely justified hope. That could be my kid, our kid,” Lance lifted himself up on one elbow. “I am going to hope. And I’m going to hope because twenty minutes ago I hardly knew they existed. And now, now this is all I want. Just you and me and them.”

Keith’s heartfelt fit to burst and there was a lump rising in his throat. “Lance,” his teeth grit tight. “Lance. You won’t have to hope much longer. We’re about to find out.”

“What?”

Keith turned over, lifting his knees up. “This kid is not waiting around.”

“Oh quiznack,” Lance jumped up. “Now, like right now?”

Pain erupted across his spine. It was worse, so much worse than anything before. Pressure mounted behind his hips, threatening to crack them. “Get the, get the plastic,” his words dissolved to a low moan. 

Lance spread the shower curtain below Keith. Once straightened he clung to Keith’s hand, watching him struggle to keep from screaming. 

Chin on his chest Keith gave in to the urge, bearing down.

“Wait!” Lance yelped. “Wait, you can’t have the baby with your pants on.”

“Then do something about it,” Keith growled. “I can’t move.”

Without as much as a dirty joke, Lance pulled the oversized sweatpants off. 

“There’s a blanket,” he gestured vaguely. “In the closet, just in case you want it.”

“Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

“You really can’t help yourself can you?” Keith rolled his eyes, but couldn’t quite stop his smile. His shoulders relaxed slowly, the pain pausing. 

Lance hesitated, hovering at the end of the bed. “Where do you want me?”

“I,” Keith bit his lip, mind whirling. Judging by the pressure he’d need someone to catch, and soon. Lance wasn’t anywhere near qualified to deliver a baby. 

Pain and panic rose once more, fogging his mind. “I don’t know. I, just, can you hold me?”

Terror shut out any embarrassment he could muster. 

Lance moved without hesitation, pushing aside pillows to lean against the headboard. Arms out he shifted a moment, cradling Keith’s upper body. 

Dropping his head on Lance’s chest Keith clung to his shirt. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” Keith admitted, voice shaking. “I mean I’ve read all the books and watched all those guide videos I found online. But I can’t think. I don’t know what to do. I- I-” struggling to find the words he buried his face in Lance’s shirt. He smelled of rich soil, some cheep hotel cologne and something indescribably  _ Lance _ .

Lance curled tighter to him, hushing him, pushing his bangs off his forehead, fingers running through his hair. “You’re doing great. In my, extremely limited contact with labor and child delivery, you’re practically perfect.”

“What experience would that be?”

“Movies,” he flushed. 

Keith snorted. 

“I told you it was limited.”

“I’d say,” he shifted, though he couldn't stop a weak smile. Pain or not, to be held in a way he hadn't dared dream for nine months, it was nice. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not exactly a cliff hanger this time but ya know, still unresolved. Next week is the last chapter!


	5. Chapter Five

“Lance,” his fingers turned to stone, tangled in his shirt.

His arms tightened around Keith’s shoulders. “Breathe,” he soothed. “You’ve got this. Just push.”

Tuning out the words Keith set his feet on the water-stained plastic, forcing every muscle to bare down. Pain washed over him, tuning out the whole world.

When his sore muscles screamed he dropped, sweat pouring down his forehead. 

“Keith?”

He shook his head, holding on tight. “Don’t. Don’t talk, please.”

Lance pressed a soft kiss atop his head. “Okay.”

They waited in silence, Lance curling his arms tighter around him. He slowly moved a hand atop Keith’s heaving stomach, thumb tracing random patterns in the skin. 

Neither of them moved for the better part of a few hours. The only shift came with every new contraction as Keith slid further down, the only sound his breathless moans.

Head in Lance’s lap Keith finally spoke, throat raw. “Lance. I need to get up. I need to get on my knees or something. They won’t move. I can’t get them to move. I, I think the baby is stuck.”

“Don’t say that,” Lance sat up, helping Keith back up. “Let’s get you moved.”

Keith nodded limply. “Okay.”

“Count of three?”

“Wait,” Keith held tight to his hand, pushing hard. With a strangled scream he dug his nails into the plastic, poking holes. 

“Keith?”

He turned to jelly, tears building. “I can’t do this! I can’t move anymore. I can’t.”

The color drained from Lance’s face. “Of course you can. You-”

“I can’t,” Keith turned all his weight against Lance. “I can’t. No more. It’s too much.”

“No,” Lance gripped his upper arms. “Keith, listen to me. You are not allowed to quit. You’ve never quit before and I am not letting you do it now. Do you hear me? Our baby needs you. They need you to be strong for a few more minutes.”

“We don’t know if they’re yours-”

“Ours,” Lance said firmly. “And no. We don’t know if they’re mine by blood. But whether they come out glaran, human, altean or anything in between. I am going to stay right here.”

The tears wouldn’t stop, only coming faster. Keith couldn’t find words past the weight in his throat. 

“And we are going to find out for certain.”

Lance could see the newest contraction coming, had learned to pick out his expressions, the way his shoulders hunched over. 

“Okay,” Keith whispered finally. 

“Good,” Lance said firmly. Moving up he shifted to the foot of the bed, getting Keith back to a sitting position, knees apart and feet set. He placed a firm hand on his knee. “Now let’s get a move on, so you can push the quiznacking kid out.”

“No swearing at the baby,” Keith’s strangled laugh was choked by the grunt of effort. Grabbing Lance’s fingers again he bent himself in half forcing every muscle downward. Fire burned across his lower body, stretched to its limit. The bones of his hips shifted, strained to the limit. 

Keith dropped against the headboard. “Lance,” he wheezed. “I- Lance?” 

His face was pale, eyes the size of dinner plates. 

“Lance.” Terror drove him up. “Lance. What’s wrong? What’s going on?” 

“I saw,” Lance whispered, a grin spreading. “I saw the head.”

“What?”

Had Keith become so numb he’d missed it entirely?

“It, it went back in,” Lance stumbled across his words, speaking quickly. “But I saw a head,” his eyes were glazed and wild, taking Keith's hands in his. “They have brown hair. Brown.”

The tears returned. His pain was forgotten as relief swept over him, a grin taking his face. “Really?”

“Cross my heart.” Lance was up on his knees, a hand on Keith’s cheek. He pressed a hard kiss, salty with tears and burning with an intensity that months apart had sparked. 

Forehead against his Lance couldn’t wipe away his smile. 

“Our baby,” Keith mumbled.

“ _ Our baby _ ,” Lance agreed. He could feel Keith’s tensing muscles before he could register them. “Ready?”

“No,” Keith dug his nails into Lance’s hand, though his smile was still held up, his tears ones of joy. 

Lance pressed his lips to his forehead. “Let’s get this show on the road then,” he leaned back, hands firm on Keith’s thigh. 

Tense as a stone, teeth grit tight Keith held to his knees, pushing with a last-ditch effort. “It burns,” he gasped, tears squeezed out the corners of his eyes. 

“I see the head again, quiznack that it a lot of hair.”

With a final desperate grunt of effort the burning ended, pressure still too much.

“That, that, is a whole head right there,” Lance’s jaw hung open.

“I know,” Keith held very still, blowing hard out his mouth. “Lance, listen to me. I need you to do something.”

“What?” he squeaked. 

“You’ve got to turn them.”

“Turn what?”

Keith’s teeth were grit tight. “Take the kid by the head and turn the head to the side, so the shoulders can fit.” 

“Keith I, I can’t-”

“Lance!” Keith’s scream turned to a sob. “Until you do they’re stuck and suffocating! Shut up and turn your child!”

“H-How?” Lance asked. “Tell me how.”

“Inspect the neck, make sure the cord isn’t wrapped around it. If it’s not, hold around the forehead and ease them around, nose to the side.”

Icy fingers shaking Lance reached around the tiny head, slowly shifting them around, nodding as he went. 

With a final desperate sigh, Keith pushed, the tiny body slid to the plastic. Tiny and red and hardly the size of a football. 

“Keith, they aren’t crying,” Lance’s panic welled. 

“Give them to me,” Keith held up his arms, baby shaking, too weak to lift from his pillows. 

Lance lifted them, the baby hardly big enough to fill both palms. 

Too panicked himself to really see detail Keith took the tiny creature, removing the mucus plug, breathing a small amount of air into the brand new lungs. He patted their back until the scarlet face scrunched, strangled sobs filling the room. 

Keith fell limp, his arms tight around the baby. 

Fluid covered the apple-sized head, perfect tiny fists opening to splayed fingers. The mouth, lips around a hole the size of a penny opened, a sound, a perfect flawless sound falling on his ears. Keith brushed a hand over his head, brushing through wild brown curls. So much hair. 

“Lance,” Keith found his voice. “Can you get the water?”

Sat frozen on the end of the bed Lance put a hand on his mouth. 

“Lance,” Keith spoke again. 

“Huh?” he hummed, eyes wide. 

“Water.”

“Right,” he grabbed the half-full tub and brought it over, placing it on the floor, eyes still frozen on the squirming infant. 

Keith pressed his lips atop the tiny head, the new pink skin against Keith’s neck. He was still sweating, pale, aching, body begging for rest. But with each new tiny cry, he couldn’t help but smile, a new emotion swelling in his chest. 

“Want to come meet your son?” Keith asked, fingers brushing their tiny arms. 

“It’s a boy?” Lance knelt next to him, fingers hovering inches away. 

Nodding Keith shifted the still wailing face to him. 

“Hi,” Lance smiled, a new welling of tears coming up. “Hello, kiddo.”

“He’s perfect,” Keith wanted to drop his head back, wanted to give in to the bone-deep exhaustion. But he just couldn’t tear his eyes away. “Ten fingers, ten toes, and a really good set of lungs.”

Lance’s fingers ghosted across the fuzzy hair. “He’s so tiny.”

"There's something else."

"What do you mean?"

Keith brushed the tiny tanned cheeks. Underneath each scrunched eye was a long violet stripe. 

"Purple?" Lance imitated the motion. "I've never seen purple before."

"Neither have I." 

Lance couldn't help taking a closer look. "Does that mean anything? I mean, I thought you said they'd look human."

"They look like you," Keith assured. "That's all I need for proof."

Slowly his shoulders released.

“Lance, do you want the honor of giving him his first bath?”

“What?”

“I can’t get up Lance,” Keith said limply, hardly able to move. 

“I,” Lance chewed on his tongue, nerves mounting. “If I get the tub on the bed will you help me?”

“It’ll spill.”

“But what if I drop him?”

“You won’t,” Keith brought Lance closer to him. “I know you won’t. You’re too careful.” Keith shot him a weak smile. 

Holding the tiny bundle to his chest Lance walked slowly to the tub of water. Underneath the grime was a rich dark skin, mottled in places but undeniably Lance's son. Lance took a soft cloth, wiping him down until everything was cleaned away. 

"He really is completely perfect," Lance whispered, returning to Keith. 

"Because he looks exactly like you?"

Lance snorted. "Don't lie."

"He's not supposed to look like me." Keith held his arms out. 

Placing the child back where he belonged Lance laid next to him, head in his hand. "I think he has some traces of you," Lance brushed back Keith's sweat-soaked locks. "Your personality for example."

The infant scowled, even as he was dried and cleaned. 

"Fair enough," Keith's laugh was breathless. Lying against the pillows he let the fussy baby settle down. The tiny mouth opened in a soft yawn, settling below his chin. 

Setting the tub onto the floor Lance knelt beside him, damp hands brushing the baby's back. "I love him," he whispered. 

Keith couldn't speak, kissing the top of the tiny head. "Yeah," he swallowed back the swell of emotion in his throat. 

"How are you feeling?" Lance moved his hand to Keith's cheek. "You're all red."

"I, I'm fine," Keith glanced up. 

Lance watched him with a look he'd only ever seen once. About ten months previous. 

Managing a weak smile Keith pushed himself up on one elbow. 

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, lie back," Lance sat up on the edge of the bed, hands on his shoulders. "Don't get up."

"I'm okay," Keith took his hand, linking their fingers. "I just," why were emotions so difficult to express. He finally knew how he felt. But words stopped him dead. "I am, really. I'm better than I have been in a long time. I'm with you."

Lance flushed red. "You sure you're okay?"

"Lance," Keith couldn't lift his voice past a whisper. 

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. For being here, for, for everything."

"I wouldn't be anywhere else." Lance moved slowly, lying down at his side, their hands linked over the baby's back.

"Do you really think we can figure this out? With the baby?"

"Our baby," Lance scooted closer, their faces inches apart now.

"Our baby," Keith agreed. 

The child between them yawned once more, squeaking contentedly. 

"We have a lot to talk about don't we?" 

"Better late than never."

That was where Krolia and Shiro found them, hours later. The room still an utter disaster, blankets, and blood everywhere. The afterbirth and destroyed shower curtain had mercifully been thrown outback. But in the middle of it all, lying on the stripped mattress, underneath a thick blanket, both boys lay, sleeping infant between them. 

"What took you so long?" Keith sat slowly, cradling the swaddled child. 

Lance moved quickly to support him, arm around Keith's waist. "Want to meet our son?"

"Our?" Shiro blinked. 

Krolia examined her own child. "Worked things out have you?"

"Just come hold your grandson." Keith flushed. 

Denying how damp her eyes had become she took a seat on the end on the bed. "Does he have a name?"

"Leon Takayuki McLain," Keith said without hesitation. 

Shiro became, if possible, even more, lost for words. 

"McLain?" Lance asked. 

"He's your son."

"Ours." 

"I'm not hyphenating." Keith insisted. 

Lance took his hand again, whispering in Keith's ear. "Quite the little family you've collected."

"I'm not alone anymore," he agreed, squeezing his fingers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have reached the end of my writing fever dream!
> 
> And wonder of wonders, I can resist happy endings. Adorable little family and Klance's happy little alien baby. 
> 
> I love all the comments and kudos. You've all been amazing!

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I have returned once more for self-indulgent Klance AU pregnancy stories. I'll never stop! They'll never stop. Ever more await!
> 
> In any case, please leave me comments, I love replying to any and all. And if you have any other AU ideas feel free to tell me.


End file.
